He smiles, the sadness still there, but greatly eased for the moment by sharing it with Ianto. "All right," he says, and starts talking, about how he first met the purple-skinned ladies in a bar fight, where they'd stood up for a feeble little alien who was being picked on by some louts; how they'd got talking afterwards and talking had led to flirting and flirting had led to all sorts of fun. He talked about their outrageous sense of humour and how he'd fitted right in; about their first daring escapade to save a young girl stranded on a mountain and how other adventures had followed; tall tales about strange worlds and the even stranger aliens who inhabited them; quiet times with just the three of them hanging out, cosy and content.

He talks long after Ianto has drifted off into sleep, a kind of cathartic cleansing of his memories. And then eventually he falls silent too, staring up at the ceiling of his room, listening to Ianto's steady breathing, wondering how he can bear to lose that too, knowing he's going to have to.

Eventually, he drifts off himself, and sleeps soundly, his first sleep unhaunted by nightmares in way, way too long.